Bodies from the Library 3

Cox never made any secret of the fact that his motivation was money and at the end of the 1930s he stopped writing crime fiction when he found that he could be paid well for simply reviewing it, which he did up until shortly before his death in 1971. Since Cox’s death his books have drifted in and out of print, but many will be familiar with his Francis Iles book Before the Fact (1932) in the form of one of Hitchcock’s most successful films, Suspicion (1941) with Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine, as well as the late Philip Mackie’s superb 1979 serial for the BBC of Malice Aforethought (1931), starring Hywel Bennett.

‘Hot Steel’ was one of two syndicated stories written specially to raise awareness of the dangers of loose chatter during the Second World War. The story was published in the Gloucester Citizen on 27 April 1943, with the postscript: ‘ Do you work in a munitions factory? If so, do you ever drop hints about the work you are doing? Don’t! What may seem only a hint to you may be a whole explanation to someone else. And there are dangerous people about, you know. ’

LORD WARBECK, master of Warbeck Hall.

THE HON. ROBERT WARBECK, Lord Warbeck’s son.

SIR JULIUS PRENDERGAST, M.P., Chancellor of the Exchequer and Lord Warbeck’s nephew.

LADY CAMILLA PRENDERGAST, Lord Warbeck’s step-niece by marriage.

MRS BARRETT, wife of John Barrett, M.P., a colleague of Sir Julius.

JAMES ROGERS, a detective sergeant in the Metropolitan Police, assigned to protect Sir Julius.

BRIGGS, the butler at Warbeck Hall.

SUSAN, the butler’s daughter.

Editor’s note: The British Parliament is a bicameral system: the lower house is the House of Commons and comprises elected members; the upper house is the House of Lords and comprises hereditary and appointed peers.

NARRATOR: It is the afternoon of Christmas Eve. In the library of Warbeck Hall, a large, dilapidated country house in the North of England, Lord Warbeck is reclining on a sofa, looking out at the steadily falling snow. He is a man of not much more than sixty, but with a face prematurely sharpened and aged by illness. Presently he rings a bell beside him. It is answered immediately by the butler.

BRIGGS: You rang, my lord?

LORD WARBECK: ( his voice is rather thin and tired, but quite firm ) Yes, Briggs, I thought I heard a car in the drive. Mr Robert arrived?

BRIGGS: Yes, my lord. He has just come in. I told him your lordship was asking for him. Shall I serve tea now, my lord, or wait for the ladies? They should have been here by now, but I expect the snow has delayed them.

LORD WARBECK: I think we’ll wait for tea until they come, Briggs. Where is Sir Julius?

BRIGGS: Sir Julius Warbeck, my lord, is writing in his room. From his expression I should judge that he is contemplating an increase in the income tax.

LORD WARBECK: ( laughing ) Let’s hope it isn’t as bad as that! It’s lucky for me, I’m not likely to live till next Budget Day, anyhow!

BRIGGS: Quite, my lord. That is—I’m sure, we all hope—

LORD WARBECK: That’s all right, Briggs. Say no more about it.

BRIGGS: No, my lord. Er—there was one further matter, my lord.

LORD WARBECK: Yes?

BRIGGS: The—the person Sir Julius brought with him, my lord. Will he be having his meals with the family or the staff?

LORD WARBECK: The person? Oh, you mean the detective? Well, I hardly think even a Chancellor of the Exchequer needs protecting at meals in this house. With the staff, certainly.

BRIGGS: Very good, my lord. And will it be in order for him to be asked to assist with the washing-up?

LORD WARBECK: From my limited experience of Scotland Yard, I should say, undoubtedly.

BRIGGS: I am glad to hear it, my lord. Here is Mr Robert, now.

ROBERT WARBECK: ( a fresh, vigorous young man’s voice ) Sorry I’m so late, father. I’ve had a simply poisonous journey here!

LORD WARBECK: Robert, dear boy, it’s good to see you! How well you’re looking!

ROBERT: And you’re looking—( he pauses, and then goes on in an anxious voice ) How are you feeling, father?

LORD WARBECK: The same as usual, Robert. I’m feeling quietly expectant, waiting for the aneurysm to blow up or whatever aneurysms do. I was told three months ago that I should not live till Christmas, and now with only a few hours to go I think I should do it. Indeed, I’m relying on you to tide me over till Boxing Day. It would be very ill-bred to expire with guests in the house.

ROBERT: Guests! You never told me there was going to be a house party!

LORD WARBECK: Certainly not a house party, Robert. Simply the ordinary family circle we have always invited here at Christmas—what there is left of it.

ROBERT: But father—

LORD WARBECK: As it is to be my last Christmas, I certainly don’t propose to break with tradition now.

ROBERT: ‘The family circle’—you don’t mean that you’ve invited Julius!

LORD WARBECK: Certainly. Cousin Julius is here now—and, according to Briggs, is filling in time putting something on the income tax.

ROBERT: It’s all very well to make a joke of it, but—

LORD WARBECK: Income tax is no joke, I am well aware. But Julius is the only near relation I have left alive, yourself excepted. I thought it proper to offer him hospitality.

ROBERT: And he thought it proper to accept it! The man who more than anyone has meant ruin to us—ruin to the whole country! I suppose you realise what the effect of the new Land Tax is going to be—when—

LORD WARBECK: ( bluntly ) When I die, Robert. Yes, I do. It will mean the end of Warbeck Hall. But until it does end, I mean to carry on.

ROBERT: ( loudly ) Well, I—

LORD WARBECK: Don’t shout, Robert. It’s a nasty habit you’ve acquired from speaking at street corners. Besides, it’s bad for me.

ROBERT: I’m sorry, father. Well, who else is there in the ‘family circle’?

LORD WARBECK: You can guess. Simply Mrs Barrett—

ROBERT: She’s as bad as Julius. Oh, I know she was mother’s best friend, but since she married that wretched self-seeking politician, she cares for nothing but pushing him up the dirty political ladder.

LORD WARBECK: Well, at least you won’t be troubled with the dirty politician. He’s abroad, she tells me. There is one more guest, Robert.

ROBERT: ( gloomily ) I suppose you mean Camilla Prendergast.

LORD WARBECK: Yes, I do mean your cousin Camilla, Robert. It would be a great comfort to me if before I go, I could know that your future was assured. She is very fond of you. I used to think that you were fond of her. But since you came out of the R.A.F. you seem to have changed. Why don’t you ask her, Robert? If your engagement could be announced this Christmas, I should die a happy man.

ROBERT: Look here, father, I’ve been wanting to tell you, but it’s difficult. I—

BRIGGS: Lady Camilla Prendergast and Mrs Barrett, my lord.

LORD WARBECK: Camilla, my dear! You’re a sight for sore eyes! Have you a kiss for your aged step-uncle by marriage?

CAMILLA: ( clear, young voice ) Of course I have! ( Sound of kiss ) It’s lovely to be back at Warbeck.

LORD WARBECK: Mrs Barrett, I daren’t ask you for a kiss. You keep them all for your husband, I know. What sort of a journey have you had?

MRS BARRETT: ( middle-aged woman’s voice—inclined to gabble ) Dreadful; dreadful! I thought we were never going to get through! And now we are here, goodness knows how we are to get out. The snow was so thick at Telegraph Hill …

( Her voice fades out. Robert and Camilla speak in low voices close to the microphone. Faint sound of voices heard behind )